Peculiar Academy
by ataylor3690
Summary: Ohren and his friends are pulled from their worlds into a world of magic and mystery by a powerful deranged warlock who intends to sacrifice them to his Mistress. Rescued in the nick of time by a sorcerer, They discover that they possess magical powers and must go to Peculiar Academy to learn how to master them. There, the new initiates must learn to rely upon one another and save


"Ohren, can you hear me?"

Ohren Drum opened his eyes slowly as the doctor stepped into view directly above him. This close to him, he could see the nearly invisible line that divided the lens of the doctor's glasses. Startled waking to a figure so close to his face, Ohren quickly perched himself on the side of the gurney, with deep regret. He was immediately consumed with a wave of dizziness and nausea. Giving a wry smile, the doctor took a seat on a tattered rolling stool and scooted over to a counter to retrieve his otoscope pen. Dazed Ohren scanned the room trying to bring its contents into focus. The doctor's office was small and brightly lit. It buzzed and crackled audibly. It was one of a few places in town in the red zone still functional.

Doctor Samuel flashed his penlight in Ohren's left then right eye causing temporary blindness. Ohren sat perfectly still afraid vertigo would return to overtake him. The doctor was a kindly middle-aged man. He'd certainly been full of surprises when he moved to town years ago. In the year 2018, decades ago, the President of the United States, withdrew the country from the Paris Climate Agreement and later from the Global Pact for the Environment which snowballed into ecological changes of extreme climate changes that depleted the countries energy resources. In the wake of the President's incompetence, disastrous hurricanes, extinctions of animals, and whole groups of people, wars, refugees and social crises devastated the country catapulting it into its post-apocalyptic state. If not for the doctor, turned electrician, the community would be without healthcare let alone electricity.

"Let your eyes follow the light, please. Just your eyes." Ohren complied still shaken by the experience.

He'd not asked any questions when the younger Ohren had displayed an aptitude well above his years after appearing in his office under like circumstances –but rightly guessed that the young Ohren had been secretly teaching himself electrical engineering when he awoke with a flurry of questions. Doctor Samuel was self-taught only taking a few engineering classes in college decades before he found his true passion, medicine. Among his small medical library was an even smaller assemblage of text on electrical engineering. On occasion, he'd noticed the manuals miscataloged. When time permitted Samuel taught the older boys what he remembered and the rest—well the rest was based on trial and error. It was the towns best chance to restore electricity and Samuel's only chance to help the afflicted. The local government had bigger designs though for Samuel's efforts. Once the electricity hummed and buzzed through the power lines the officials began setting up zones. Each zone dubbed a key sector housed a hospital, clinic or grocery store. When it was discovered Washington was the only state in district one with electricity the local government tried to broker the resource to other states, but the surges of electricity could not be sustained beyond Washington. Crews had been working for years to restore what Dr. Samuel had managed to resume in the few short months of his arrival. It was a mystery. It didn't matter to Ohren that Dr. Samuel's skills were two-fold, it only mattered that he was the one person he could count on.

Most teenage boys his age would never risk themselves the way he had. Ohren had joined the mindless drowns of utility pole climbers in the quest to keep the one resource the state of Washington had that the other forty-nine states did not. Ohren had climbed a utility pole and attempted to repair a distribution transformer that had been severely damaged by lightning. Preservation of food for the community and the ability to affect change—made him feel like a contributor, even if he didn't have a future. Perhaps he would have made a good humanitarian or politician one day if he'd been born in a different time. But he already knew his life would not improve beyond today.

"I'll check your ears now."

It was the Presidential Election of 2016 that launched the tribulation age. The United States was plunged into civil unrest and the constitution dissolved. Each state formerly of the perfect union raced to restore a semblance of itself before the loss of resources, global warming, and pollution. Each state at war with the other. Each state vying for the last resources both natural and man-made. The corrosion of societal norms and civil unrest created states of women and states of men. States of race and sexuality. States that remained intact, preserved in the 21st century became neutral lands. Politics, ideas, traditions, customs all deteriorated, all unconstitutional.

In an apocalyptic state, mechanical and electronic devices were discarded thought to be of little use once the resources were depleted; from time to time the sappers unearthed objects which were reported immediately. A selfish man would think only of himself and indulge in a guilty pleasure. After decades buried beneath the earth, there was no guarantee the trinket worked or that a vehicle could be restored. Without the proper tools or resources, there was no reason to salvage the junk. The aim was to preserve food and aid the afflicted.

Ohren caught sight of himself in a small mirror above the sink. He scarcely recognized the boy looking back at him. Singed, cropped black hair framed his face with olive skin and dark eyes that looked somehow sorrowful against his skin. His clothes were singed, blackened and dusty. Looking in the mirror in that instant in the tiny room solidified for him that his life wouldn't improve. That nothing ever would. The doctor waved a hand in front of him. "Still with me?"

"Yes. Sorry," Oren said exhaling, realizing for the first time that he was holding his breath. "I'll try to be more careful." He stood and gathered his gloves and boots, already slipping them on as he headed towards the door.

A pressing sense of foreboding returned to Ohren as he exited the building and walked down the street. There was no future for him, not even if he taught himself and others to repair every transformer in town; his life would be consumed with another circuit inductance or substation. No, he'd still be unfulfilled. He wasn't handsome, too shy to have a life outside of circuit boards. He wanted friendship and companionship and yet he knew he wouldn't know what to do with them if he had either.

Ohren knew one thing for certain. He didn't want to go home. His father might be disappointed to see that he'd been sent home early again, or he'd be ignored because he lacked the athletic prowess of his father. Neither was preferred. His walk slowed.

He wished he could go somewhere-anywhere-other than home.

He realized at that moment he'd do anything to escape the mundane existence he lived—anything.

He splashed through a small puddle of water, trudging closer home when electroshock struck him without warning. Ohren closed his eyes tight, clenched his fist and dropped to his knees. _Not again_, he thought.

The sense of shock ended as quickly as it began. The tingling sensation less intense than before lasted for what felt like mere seconds.

When he opened his eyes, he was kneeling but in a very different place.

Ohren winced in disbelief. He discovered he was kneeling in the middle of a large courtyard, his knees pressed against the smooth sand-stone evidenced it was real. Convinced he had died and entered the pearly gates of heaven, he stood a bit disappointed. There were no streets paved in gold, no loved ones to greet him, not even the sound of harps. Panic struck him as he noticed a lone figure standing robed in an entryway. Fearful he thought _what have I done? _He'd stood impulsively to take a look around. He lowered himself quickly to his knees and bowed his head in reverence.

A long shadow cast over him as the figure loomed nearer. Ohren's chest rose and fell in nervous anticipation of meeting his creator.

"Welcome," the shrouded figure said. There was something pleasant and reassuring in his voice, almost familiar as if he had known him for a very long time and had been estranged. "You may rise and call me Frost."

Ohren raised an eyebrow. Then popped open an eye. _Frost_ he thought, as he scurried to his feet. Everything he'd ever learned about heaven in Sunday School, was being tested. The Sunday school teacher had never mentioned a Frost. Flames weren't lapping at his feet and he wasn't on fire. This wasn't hell. Maybe, just maybe he'd been kidnapped or was hallucinating-but who'd kidnap a worthless boy? Ohren forced himself to speak. His mouth parched.

"Where…?" He broke into ragged coughs and swallowed. "Where am I and how did you bring me here?"

Confounded by the question Frost halted his encirclement at the rear of Ohren and said, "I am here at the appointed time to greet the newest initiate." Ohren stiffened as he suddenly realized he was the new initiate. "Me?" Ohren questioned, turning to face his greeter.

"Yes, you are Ohren-Ohren Drum. You are prophesied to arrive at this appointed time." He shuffled forward quickly towards Ohren. His faced still hidden by the oversized shroud and pointed across the expanse. "So are all the children of Eco who would lead us into the great battle of Bedlam." It was then that Ohren could see he was not the only one to have arrived. Frost turned back to Ohren and ordered, "Come with me." His voice was now cracking and shrill.

Ohren felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach and he swallowed hard the bile that rose in his throat. "But I am not that person…."

"I assure you, you are," Frost informed him. Ohren looked around watching the other initiates as he-they followed Frost. But how could that be? Each initiate was having their own conversation with their own Frost or version of him. He stopped abruptly noting something perceptibly odd. When the Frost in front of him waved his arm to speak so did all the others. When he stopped walking so did they. When he shivered, they all shivered. "You have been delivered to us, your fate now is your own," said Frost walking more quickly ahead of Ohren into the distance. Ohren wondered if Frost was a clone? Mass duplication of a human down to the finest details, sent only to greet the newcomers. _ Silly_ he thought. _How could that be? And that they'd all work in consort._ Still, he wondered if each greeter—Frost, was giving the same speech instantaneously or if the initiates were asking the same questions at the same time. He reasoned that he found himself in a strange land, so anything was possible.

"The Mistress will be most pleased that you have arrived. Most pleased indeed. You mustn't tarry there is much to do and much for which to prepare."

As the initiates and the greeters converged on the grand entranceway Frost stepped onto the stone at the center of the paths and meld into one being. The initiates immediately stopped horrified by what they had just witnessed. Having one voice, soft but amplified he cleared his throat, "Take each of you a stand on the final stone of your path and let us determine your destiny." None were so brave as to take the first step forward each looking toward the other.

_Magic_ Ohren thought. "And where are we that we should believe that magic is real?" He heard himself ask aloud. Frost moved toward Ohren's voice peering at him from beneath the heavily draped shroud and answered, "You are in the Ruins, on the northern face of the Ragged Mountains." His words meant nothing to the initiates who grew more alarmed.

Another initiate started to speak, and then stopped herself. "The Ruins," she said trying to keep her growing dread under control, "How did we—why are we here?"

Frost shrugged, the motion causing his robe to stir. The young girl gasped unnerved by the nearly inhuman suggestion of his movements, seeing for the first time the way the robe journeyed over him. Watching the forms of inexplicable flesh coil was more disturbing to her imagination as it was half-seen given the distance between them. Horrified by what she thought she may have seen she decided she wasn't waiting to be sure. Just as she began to think, _this is real,_ she turned to flee but her feet were firmly planted against the smooth stones and her arms laid rigidly at her side. The paralysis instantly took hold of each initiate, first the girl, then the others as they each begin to see Frost for his true self.

Frightened at the impossible sight Ohren attempted to lift his feet. The more he struggled the tighter the force held him—held them all. Frost snapped his fingers and all four initiates moved towards the pedestals at the base of their paths. Like magic.

"You don't have to do this," said another male initiate as he struggled against the invisible force that bound them. Redoubling their efforts, they all struggled against it to no avail. Frost chuckled coldly. "Your sacrifice will restore the Ruins and me."

The shroud fell away from his face as he stepped forward and lifted his hands towards the heavens. Ohren stared, afraid. Frost's skin was stretched tightly around his skull accentuating the bones underneath, his eyes empty caverns of darkness, he looked inhuman. Ohren winced as he finally saw his hands, flesh that stretched before him clawed with undulating scales.

"This isn't real," cried the girl initiate a few feet over from Ohren. "It isn't real."

But Ohren knew it was very real. He took a deep breath and smelled the stench of decay and death and knew this was very real. He needed time to think. Time to escape.

The sorcerer started to laugh. "I told you where you are, and you've come at the appointed time," he said, mockingly. "There is no escaping your destiny."

He was right, Ohren realized. He'd never heard of the Ruins but he was acutely aware he was no longer in the United States. No matter how he wanted to avoid it, he had to accept the fact that he had somehow been transported from his world to one where magic actually worked, where creatures existed, and evil sorcerers could and would use humans as a sacrifice for power.

Escape would be futile. Where would he go?

With an enchantment, darkness swallowed the five and the stench of sulfur permeated the air. The ground below their feet fell away replaced by ash.

Ohren found his voice. "Where are we?"

Frost didn't respond and it occurred to Ohren even if he had he wouldn't know the place. This was a whole new world for him. One he could have never imagined. Ohren again struggled against the magic binding him as did the others. Frost sneered over his shoulder and muttered a series of words under his breath. Instantly a brilliant flash of light, radiant enough to cause the initiates to drop to their knees against the glare washed over them. When Ohren opened his eyes, he saw a cavernous mountain gaped right in front of him, as if it had been there all along. Perhaps it had been, he told himself, invisible to the naked eye, taking comfort in the thought. If Frost had the forethought to hide the entrance to his fortress, maybe he had reason to fear. But what would a powerful magician like Frost fear?

The binding spell tightened and jerk the initiates forward in the darkness that awaited them in the mountain. Inside, there was a sense of crushing limitlessness, as if the mountain extended beyond their grasp. The smell of sulfur assailed their nostrils as the magic pulled them deeper into the mouth of the cave. Frost seemed unaffected by the stench, muttering under his breath as we passed various passageways time to time that appeared out of nowhere, only to vanish again as we passed. Each more disturbing than the next. One, a sinister haze shimmered before the entrance. Faint cries of what sounded like a human child grew into a howl. Another, screams not quite human pierced their ears forcing them to writhe in pain.

Each unsettled Ohren no one more than the other but each equally terrifying in its own way.

"Here we are," Frost announced. He muttered a few words and the corridor appeared in front of him. A brilliant light shown from within unlike the others, flooding the darkness that surrounded us. It was blinding and in contrast to the corridors before, warm. The magic jerked them forward in step with Frost and a pocket enveloped them into a stone carved. In the center sat a woman in a blood red dress, looking down her nose. Her face was emaciated with rigid angles and though she sat regally upon her throne she looked skeletal. She flicked her fingers dismissively and the binding magic tightened causing much discomfort to the initiates before it snapped thrusting them to their knees.

"Mistress," Frost began, bowing repeatedly as he approached, "The Initiates," Frost yelped in pain. The spindly woman held her bony hand up and stopped Frosts advance. The despicable creature twisted and writhed in pain his body contorting as she flexed her fingers. She descended from her seat walking assuredly down the stone steps and chanting words unfamiliar to Ohren. The stones before her grind loudly as an altar emerged. Growing fearful the initiates sought to escape. Sensing it, she released Frost pulling to her a young boy initiate trying desperately to find an exit. He appeared to be quite a few years younger than Ohren, but that did not stop the woman from slamming him to the altar upon his back. There was a loud crack and the boy groaned in pain. Sharply she waved her right hand and glued the others to the floor. With much protest, the others yelled and screamed at the woman to release the boy who now laid rigid on the stone altar arms stretched wide.

Keeping her eye firmly on the squirming boy before her she praised Frost for his efforts. "Frost you have done well to bring me these specimens. They will do nicely to restore my beloved it Shadowlea." His throat barely relaxing from the torture inflicted moments ago, Frost managed to croak, " My Mistress is pleased?" Excitement mingled with pain, Frost stood allowing his scales to flutter over his body like a rippling wave. He looked more reptilian now. Ohren could finally clearly see Frost for what he was. The half reptile half man creature was more horrifying to look at than Ohren had thought possible. It reminded him of a picture he'd seen in an old world magazine, Sci-Fi. He recalled what the creature had been called in those books and spoke it aloud before it escaped him. "Alien." The woman whirled to see him. Ohren couldn't help but find Frost both grotesque and beautiful. Just as the word escaped Ohren the woman threw another spell sewing the pleading initiates mouths shut.

Returning her attention to the boy, the Mistress smiled at him slightly and raised a hand. Her pointer finger revealing a fingernail as sharp and as thin as a razor. " Thank you for your sacrifice. For restoring Shadowlea to its glory and me," she giggled. "I promise you this will hurt, but your death will be our rebirth." The young boy laid there motionless with tears streaming down his face and lips stitched shut. " There there it will all be over soon, " she cooed while ripping his shirt from his chest. "The blood of an innocent will restore us and we will reign again," she taunted as the finely sharpened nail lightly broke the skin of the boy's chest revealing a trickle of his blood.

Ohren stood trapped and helplessly unable to defend the young boy or himself. He tried to recall the prayers he'd learned as a child, but nothing came to mind. Instead, he fought to free himself from the invisible magical shackles that bound him. Frost scampered over to the stone altar.

"And so it begins," Frost said. He and the woman began to chant unintelligible words. Ohren didn't understand a single word but he felt a surge of power in the mountainside. A brilliant wash of white light shown hotly over the young boy, causing him to cry out and the other initiates to close their eyes tightly.

The pair stopped chanting. An eerie silence fell in the great hall. Ohren was aware that something was now in the hall with them. A presence with great and terrible power.

Ohren attempted to see what lurked within but the darkness was swallowed up by the light. He heard movement and angled his head in its direction. Listlessness befell him and he knew it was pointless to resist the temptation to give in. The woman drew closer to the young boy, her fingernail posied over his heart.

And then, suddenly, the light retreated into darkness. The warmth was gone and the presence with it.

Frost whimpered loudly, ducked and scurried away from the altar. The woman grew enraged and bit out a word that was most likely a curse and cast a spell to the far corner of the hall, before crashing into her throne. Afraid to open his eyes Ohren felt the sparks of magic scarcely avoid him. He prayed none of the others were hit as flashes of light lit up the hall, revealing another shadowy figure standing at the far entrance. There was a tingling sensation on his lips and a static jolt about his wrist. It took Ohren a few seconds before he opened his eyes realizing he was free. His feet no longer plastered to the floor he, ran first to aid the young boy trapped between the battling magicians and then back towards the others and huddled them into a corner. Darkness fell for a brief moment before a blue flash of light showed the figure much closer. Who was he? Frost giving no aid to his Mistress coward in the corner as the sorcerer neared.

The Mistress stumbled to her feet. Groggy from the blow she had sustained and realized the boy was gone and Frost was in danger. She hurled her most powerful spell at the encroaching sorcerer, who deflected it with a spell of his own. The thunderous explosion of the two magic colliding shook the cavernous mountain and sent the five initiates flailing deeper into the recesses of the caves corner. When Ohren turned to see what had happened neither the Mistress or Frost could be found. They had simply vanished. Snapped out of existence. Ohren righted himself on the ground and looked intently as the shadowy figure emerged extending a hand. Ohren drew back, unsure of what the figure wanted. He'd been kidnapped to this new land and nearly sacrificed. Welcoming strangers, he'd learned, were not what they seemed.

Ohren left his hand in mid-air and stood to his feet. He turned to check on the others assisting a young girl to her feet. " We haven't much time. My magic won't hold them at bay for long. Come with me." The group huddled behind Ohren balked. A deafening crack resounded across the room and white light sputtered. "You will come with me or die! Join hands now!"

The initiates did not hesitate any longer. They joined hands and urged Ohren to accept the hand still extended to him. Grudgingly, Ohren accepted and the darkness of the mountain cave was consumed by a bright white light.

**Chapter 2**

The light receded and Ohren and the others found themselves in the middle of a school. "Follow me," their rescuer said. His face still as invisible as it had been in the mountain cave, cloaked by his hood. The five didn't know what to think. Should they follow him? Could he be trusted not to harm them? The three boys and one girl looked to Ohren for guidance. "Don't worry Frost cannot access you here."

Ohren looked to the others and nodded to follow the man. The others couldn't see it, but he tried hard to keep his body from shaking. He urged the group forward with his fist tightened and white-knuckled ready for a fight. Ready to protect them. Since when had he become so brave? They followed the sorcerer into a vast room, filled with a large desk and bookshelves along the walls as tall as the ceiling. There were papers scattered about with scribblings Ohren could not comprehend. There were symbols on the walls and floors that flared a goldish color as then ventured deeper inside then dissipated. Gradually it became as bright as the outdoors inside.

"Take a seat won't you?" The others did as they were asked, their knees about to buckle. Wearily they found the scattered chairs and took a seat. Ohren, however, remained standing. "All of you," demanded the sorcerer motioning his finger and causing a chair to slide up behind Ohren's legs forcing him into the seat.

Ohren shaken by the experience hesitated to stand. All his life, he'd felt like the outsider in his community, in his home—but now he simply wanted to protect his friends—to belong. Were they friends? They hadn't even been properly introduced but through their trials, he felt they were connected. Still, the sorcerer didn't seem to be a threat, he could have killed them without bringing them to –to where? The anguish of the unknown nearly paralyzed him. Resolute that there was nothing he could do, he relaxed a little in the seat. The man's desk shimmered with magic.

Enamored, he caught himself and looked back at the others. " Who are you?"

"I am Grand Master Theleus. I will tell you what you need to know when you need to know," the man said slowly, regarding each initiate, as he removed his cloak and pulled back his hood. "Rule number one. Do not ever ask a sorcerer his name. It is improper to do so. He or she won't give it any way to do so could cost them their lives. Ask rather what he would like to be called."

A boy brown-haired piped up from behind Ohren. "Okay, then what would you like to be called?" The man chuckled a bit but did not repeat his name. He looked up at the group. He was neither young or old, with a strong face and a shock of red hair.

He smiled at them and they suddenly felt reassured. "You may call me Grand Master if you like," he said. " I am sure you have many questions."

"Yes," they said in unison. Ohren had hundreds dancing on his lips, bursting to be free, but one pressed more urgently to be asked. "Why…why did you free us?"

Grand Master Theleus thought the question odd. "Why not?"

Ohren and the others studied him, trying to find meaning in his response. Theleus had risked his life in a duel with not one but two sorcerers nearly his match to save them, people of little consequence to him. Ohren puzzled why he was surprised by the question. Theleus answered not.

The wafer-thin girl cleared her throat steadied herself and asked, " What…what did you do to them?" Fearful the same fate awaited them.

"Frost and his Mistress?" Theleus smiled. "I forced them to the far end of the ruins. They are stunned, nothing more." He sobered quickly his smile fading to a grimace. " I fear they will return soon enough seeking vengeance."

The group became unsettled, fidgeting in their seats at the mention of Frost's return. Ohren stared at him. " Why didn't you kill them? She will surely kill all of us upon her return."

"To kill a sorcerer young man is not an easy task," Theleus said. It was by chance that I was able to attack at all. Their wards were lowered to perform the sacrificial ritual as I entered the mountain cave."

"Where are we?"

Theleus didn't seem surprised at all by the question. " You are in Baedcove, a guest in my cottage, located in the mountain of Mercia." He studied their faces for a long moment, thoughtfully, then repeated it again, questionable "Mercia? Are you familiar?"

"No," Ohren said looking at the others who agreed ingest. Despite the calm displayed Ohren felt his thoughts racing and his pulse increasing in fear. Were... were they? Frost had summoned them here to this strange land but how? Why?

"Frost said he brought us here for his Mistress, how?"

"He did. And with a powerful spell and deadly magic too. Although I do not yet know the why." Ohren shook his head in disbelief. Even after seeing all that he had the realization of magic seemed too far fetched. "Magic," he spat. " Why us?"

" I want to go home, " said the fair-haired girl scared finding herself in a strange land that used magic. She'd found manuscripts on her world about magicians and tricks but this was all too real and yes, deadly.

Theleus hesitated. "A dark powerful magic evoked keen sensory to your arrival, it is unclear for what purpose you are here. Or for that matter from whence you came." Not for the first time, he faltered. "As for going home—you may never be able to go home. I'm not even sure it's possible. A magic that dark can only be conjured by a dark sorcerer and I don't think you'll find any of those around here."

There was no mistaking the way he stated it. There was no hope of returning home, for the young girl or any of the boys. Here was where the heart was from this point on—wherever here was.

A sobering thought that reeled the group. Ohren thought of his home. His life wasn't anything to boast about; he'd never been good enough for his father and a runt in the community. He'd placed a higher value on the brain and not Braun unlike most. But it had been his home—his life. He'd had the opportunity to learn from one of the best, Dr. Samuel, he'd learned all sorts of things about medicine and electricity-new and nerdy things and now it was all gone?

"It just may be possible if we can harness enough energy, but that would require that the two schools come together. It's highly unlikely—highly unlikely," Theleus continued consumed with the thought of returning the initiates. "Opening a gateway between worlds is too dangerous."

The brown-haired boy spoke up breaking the Grand Master's concentration, "They had planned to sacrifice us. Why? I mean if we were sacrificed how would our deaths aid their cause?"

Becoming more alert to his surroundings, Theleus answered with uncertainty, "I don't know."

An olive-skinned boy blurted out, " When Frost spoke to me, he called me a changeling. What? What's a changeling?"

The Grand Master's eyes grew wide. He walked closer to the young boy now standing to ensure he was heard. Theleus marveled at him. " Why a changeling are you?" He encased the boy intently scrutinizing him, then reached out and waved into space between him and the boy. The boy's flesh blurred. Startled the others dispersed to the far side of the room Ohren included.

"What…what just happened to me?" Asked the boy a bit alarmed at his companion's reactions. He hadn't felt the change at all. Theleus stopped in front of the boy and made eye contact. " Indeed you are a changeling. We need to take great care of your teaching. A changeling is a pungent weapon." Ohren stiffened. Remembering the words spoken to him by Frost. "All the children of Eco who would lead us into the great battle of Bedlam." Were they all meant for this purpose and did they all have magical powers?

"What if we're all like him?" Asked the girl frightened by her own words. And announcing the thoughts right out of Ohren's head. A jolt of panic ran through them. She was right! What if they were now somehow transformed into changelings? In this new world was that a good or bad thing?

Theleus nodded, with some understanding of what was coursing through their minds. "My guess is your unique abilities are what attracted Frost to you and why he brought you here. Still, not sure how he knew you were such a powerful changeling."

Incredulous, the boy asked, " Me? A powerful changeling?" Then sadly, "I'm just a boy who barely even existed in my world. No one ever knew who Sariifid was—no one even cared."

Sariifid had been set apart most of his life. The only male child born into a family of nine females who sheltered him, he faltered to find his footing. In his village, women were rulers and men simply helpmates. By the tribe's standards, at the age of eight, by both male and female, Sariifid was thought too small to engage in the hunting parties, so he has subjugated to skin the slaughter or tends the gardens. The other males his age bullied him relentlessly. How could he, Sariifid, be a skinner or farmer when his father had been such an avid hunter for the village? Sariifid would never be as agile as his father and he'd certainly not lived up to his father's reputation. He lived with the humiliation he caused his father daily and tried desperately to please him. He'd learned to skin the largest animal kills in under a minute. His knife cutting skills were second only to his father, but he'd never get the chance to show him—or anyone. He was never invited to join the competitions for sport. He was considered feeble, and now he was here—and afflicted with something called the changeling. The boy shivered, feeling the isolation creeping up on him once more.

Breaking the silence, the boy, who had been rescued earlier, with caution walked over to Sariifid and took his hand from his side to shake it. " Sariifid, I'm Kuchi."

"It's nice to meet you."

The others gathered around and introduced themselves. The only girl in the group, pint-sized, Nosier introduced herself second. Followed by the brown-haired boy, Ebrahim and finally Ohren.

Theleus turned and looked at the others. He wondered if they too were changelings. "They will not be halted," he said. "Years ago, the providence of Kendemar was besieged by the mongrels. The Queen was enslaved while the King was beheaded and his head hung at the highest point of the province, the King's tower."

The group starred at him. "Frost?" asked Ohren.

"Yes and the mongrels of the underverse."

"Was the Mistress…" Ohren began. "Yes. A mongrel." Theleus finished.

Theleus' expression darkened. "It's been years since the mongrels have attempted a coup, but with your presence, I fear a revolt may be in our near future."

Ohren felt shaken. The words of Frost rang true in Ohren's head like a clanging bell, but still, he kept silent, not wanting to bring wanted attention to himself. Theleus spoke matter of factly about the abductors and yet he'd revealed no reason for the group being targeted. Theleus continued with his thoughts out loud as Ohren recalled his conversation with Frost replaying the conversation in his mind. " You are here at the appointed time," Frost had said. What did that mean? Theleus cleared his throat watching Ohren closely.

"As I was saying….rest assured my protection and the protection of the school as long as you remain in our world. If among you a changeling exists, I dare say what we may find when the rest of you mature in your afflictions."

The group shared a wary look but said nothing.

The Grand Master walked across the room and out of the door into space beyond. Shrugging, the group followed him through the door, and into the school's reception area that glowed with a sickly yellow light, save Ohren who hung back a little. As he neared the entrance, he noticed a small wooden desk, with a handful of objects and papers on the surface. Behind the desk sat a scrawny woman with wiry black hair and glasses. The walls were bare except for a calendar and an enormous picture of the Grand Master.

The others filing in, Ohren paused taking another look around the near-empty space before entering. As he crossed the threshold his body tingled. He felt a quieting fall over his mind and he stopped in his tracks, not sure what to make of the sensation. He looked to the others, it appeared they too felt a change but what? The Grand Master noted his sensitivity but said nothing. "Lady Arachnodactyly will see to you further. I am needed elsewhere at the moment. Lady Arachnodactyly please see to it that their needs are met." And with a wave of his hand Theleus, the Grand Master was gone.

Lady Arachnodactyly stood smoothing the front of her robe and moving to the front of her desk. "You may call me Lady Arachna. Welcome to Peculiar Academy. We begin with an entrance exam. This room is designed to deflect unexpected discharges of magic. You are here to hone your powers. Each of you possesses a hint of magic. Some magics are more prevalent than others. You, changeling," she said looking at Sariifid, "you have magic spilling out all around you. This is dangerous as spilled magic can quickly deplete a magician." Frowning she continued, "All of you, follow me please." There was an odd note in her voice that left the five feeling it would be unwise not to do so. Lady Arachna stepped through another door at the back of the room and into a network of corridors. The group followed as she motioned for them to precede her into the far right corridor. Inside, the walls were smooth stone, hammered with hooks that held keys. Keys that seemed to come to life as they entered the room, with a low hum. "Concentrate. Close your eyes, use your instincts to draw your keys to you. Pick the one that calls to you and only the one." The five stood there regarding Lady Arachna. It was a test. One in which Ohren was sure he'd fail. Sariifid stepped forward, staring at the objects on the wall. They varied in shape, size, color, and weight he thought to himself. A long black skeleton key caught his attention. He reached for it then yelled in pain snatching his hand away as quickly as he had placed it. The rune of the key now seared into his palm.

"The lesson," Lady Arachna began, "is to form a connection to the key. I suggest you take heed before your next selection. The connection is not of the physical but of the essence." With a small giggle, she snapped her fingers, and the pain in Sariifid's hand faded slowly to ensure he'd learned the lesson. He rubbed where the rune of the key once appeared, grateful the agonizing pain had subsided. "Follow the rules, there are no short cuts here."

Ohren stepped forward, closed his eyes, took a deep breath and concentrated on the keys that surrounded him. What was the worst that could happen? He thought. A temporary sting from calling forth the wrong key. Settling himself he cleared his mind of any thoughts outside of the room of keys. He drew in slow consistent breaths. Shallow and calming until he felt a tug on the inside. Just barely at first then without opening his eyes, he lifted his hand reflectively and a long black skeleton key smacked his palm. His eyes jolted open, his chest heaving. He held in his hand the very key that had moments ago seared Sariifid. He was surprised that he'd done it. He'd completed the test. He turned to face the others, glee spreading across his face. "Excellent, dragged out Lady Arachna smiling. "The Skeleton key is said to exist in its ability to open all doors, allowing passage into those places that exist behind locked barriers. This is in reference of course to liminal spaces and the spiritual realms. You will do well to hold fast to that key."

"I'm next," Nosier announced and moved to the center of the room. Nervous, she shook out her arms and exhaled loudly once then a second time. "Oh come on already," blurted Kuchi anxious to have his turn. "Alright, don't rush me," Nosier retorted, giving herself one final shake, before spreading her arms wide, closing her eyes, and concentrating on the keys just as Lady Arachna had warned. She waited. Nothing happened. She peeked at the wall facing her and took another breath relaxing her shoulders, this time clearing her mind of all remaining distractions. The breathing of her new mates, stilled, the bright light that shown on her face, dulled, even the memory of the room itself, faded into nothingness. Slowly she opened her palm filling a slight tug at her insides. As she did so a golden key graced her palm. Nosier spun to her mates, a huge grin spreading across her face. "I did it!" She squealed. "It appears you did," answered Lady Arachna covering her ears then straightening just a bit as she caught sight of the key. " The key of Truth. Beware all who seek to defy integrity. The possessor of this object has the courage to face can encourage the truth. Doing the right thing will be necessary when confronted with things one wishes to keep hidden."

"Three more tries," Lady Arachnodactyly encouraged. " Now don't be shy who's next?" Sariifid, Kuchi, and Ebraham regarded one another. Sariifid shook his head indicating he wasn't ready to try again. The searing pain of the skeleton key had tainted his willingness to try. Kuchi walked toward the center of the room and turned left facing the wall opposite the door. The wall glowed with electric power; the keys hummed louder as if welcoming him. Something about the keys comforted him.

_Use your instincts to draw your key to you,_ Lady Arachna had said. Kuchi spread his arms wide. He turned and faced each wall of the room. He tried to think logically, that the key could come from any wall, anywhere in the room, and then realized that magic might not follow the rules of reason. Again with his back to the door, Kuchi stood resolute in his decision to face the forward wall, and closed his eyes, slowing his breathing and concentrating on his key. Powerfully, he felt a tug and opened his eyes to see that his fingers had encased not one but two Master keys in the palms of his hands.

"Well done," said Lady Arachna. " Well done indeed. The redemption key is an essential symbol in Merica. It presupposes a condition from which one can only find deliverance, albeit at a price."

r/magicbuilding/comments/83y339/the_ranking_system_used_by_the_mage_association/

"Hi, I'm Nosier. Welcome to the Peculiar Academy. It's a lot to take in I know, but you'll soon fit right in here. This building has been around for centuries. The highest walls are one hundred forty-eight feet high and the lowest is ninety-eight. It's said that furious winged dragons used to fly through the halls in the olden days. And cannons blasted from the rafters. Can you imagine? I'll bet you're nervous. Well no need to be, everyone here is peculiar in some way or another. Pardon the pun. I'm a second year hence the blue robe, what are you? Not that it matters I just thought I'd ask. You know, to be conversational and all. I will be showing you around the grounds today. Thank goodness! I get to skip first and maybe second-period classes thanks to you and this tour guide gig." Nosier abruptly stopped walking and stopped jabbering just as quickly. The new student, dutifully following plowed into her back with a thud. Mesmerized by the staggering height of the walls and golden splendor of the ceiling. He quickly snapped to attention noting that he hadn't been paying attention to Nosier at all. He had been imagining winged creatures swooping in and out of the alcoves. Envisioning cannons flailing through the air tearing massive holes in the rafters. Nosier sniffed the air sharply leaning in towards the new guest as he leaned away. It was her way of getting to know someone although imposing. She stood erect, straight as an arrow, heels clicked together with her fingers laced behind her back. Uneased her guest stood perfectly still. Nosier smiled coyly at her guest and raised an eyebrow, then waited for the newbies' response to at least one question or reaction to her sniff. None came. She broadened her smile but instead of exuding warmth her guest became even more apprehensive. He searched the room. The long lapse in conversation growing peculiar. "So, how'd it happens?" She blurted out. Almost bursting at the seams. The new student's expression changed from fear to one of disenchantment. Nosier could see the question smack him across the face just assuredly as she had drawn back her hand in a mighty slap. Her broad smile slipped into a grimace. "You don't have to answer that if you don't want to." She quickly tried to console him. "It's usually some catastrophic event that brings it on." Worried that she'd ruined any chance she had of making a new friend of this extraordinary new kid. Nosier's nose began to shade a bright red. The new student didn't speak just stood there looking mortified that his affliction had been discerned. "I figured I'd go ahead and ask. You know talk about the elephant in the room so to speak." 'Elephant in the room,' she thought and kicked herself inwardly for the poor choice of words. Clearing her throat with a bowed head and deep regret, she offered. "No offense." To which the new kid mumbled begrudgingly, "none taken." Moving just past PA's newest member maybe five steps down the hall, Nosier was careful to stretch a narrow office door space as wide as she could, then gestured for the new student to take the lead through the door into the east wing.

They walked gingerly into the grand hallway empty of the bustling students now that the first-period bell had rung. "This is the East wing, "said Nosier ushering in the newbie. "Wow!" He uttered in astonishment twirling in a circle taking in the majestic views. The walls were as high as mountains with picturesque ceilings of full battle scenes and cherubs. "Peculiar Academy is one of the oldest buildings you'll find in these parts. Of the four wings, the East wing is the oldest." She glanced back at the student slowly bringing up the rear. "Yeah, I know, a bit gaudy I think with all the statues and monuments, but its home. At least for now," she winked, then looked at the paperwork Secretary Arachnodactyly, a.k.a. Spidey Fingers had given her. "It says here your name is Ohren. Ohren? What kind of a name is that? She studied the paper carefully. Did you know your name spelled backward is Dum-bo?" She glanced over at Ohren her mouth agape then quickly looked away feeling her cheeks flush with heat. But it was too late. He was deflated. His brow immediately furrowed and his fist tightened. "Yeah, I know," he started and crossed his arms over his chest in annoyance. "So, did all the other kids at my previous school." Nosier was crushed. Her goal had been to make the new student feel welcomed instead she'd managed to offend him in the worst way possible. Twice actually in less than a half hour. She wasn't any good at his job. Not at all. She had pointed out his affliction with reckless abandonment. "Guess I could have handled that better. So sorry about that." She apologized. "Deciphering is a gift of mine and your name, well it looks like code. It won't happen again now that we've gotten all of the unpleasantries out of the way," she said placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder and offering her warmest smile. Ohren did not respond but shrugged her away. Needing to change the subject and cheer the mood she moved through the hall prattling on. "Here you can be called by any name you choose. You can be anyone." Ohren followed closely behind trying desperately not to get lost in the enormous space.

Nosier and Ohren moved down the hall further away from the office taking time to stop occasionally to take a peak in a large library, several classrooms and a cafeteria that lined both the left and right sides of the grand walkway. Nosier was careful to point out the various amenities the East Wing offered. As a tour guide for the school Nosier's position afforded her knowledge about Ohren's favorite pastimes such as swimming and fencing. "Peculiar Academy has four pools and four fencing studios. It also has two equestrian stables, three tennis courts, and four theatres." Ohren leaned in to take a quick peek at a dimly lit fencing studio before they reached a massive door that divided the walkway. The door was embellished with intricate carvings and symbols nested in an ivy pattern. At the entrance sat a fair-haired woman with perfectly pursed lips. Nosier handed her the slip from Secretary Arachnodactyly and stepped back. She cleared her throat. "Good day," she said in an English accent. "Good day and Welcome to the Peculiar Academy. My name," she stood smiling, "is Ms. Applebaum. Please follow me." The very curvaceous woman walked over to the giant doors and gently pushed. Looking back at Ohren she declared, "Not everything is as it seems." With a whoosh, the door swung open inwardly. "Welcome to the East Wing. Here at the Peculiar Academy, you will find that we are all afflicted. Your affliction is no worse than any other and as such you will be treated as any other student here." Both Ohren and Nosier followed Ms. Applebaum down the corridor watching her affliction sway until she reached yet another door. The word Shema arched the entrance. She unlocked the door and entered the opulent room ushering the two students inside. "You have been assigned to room Shema. It is an old Hebrew word which means listen. May I suggest you take heed young man. On your bed, you will find your texts, a diary and the rules of the Peculiar Academy. Take grave care of your diary and text. They will serve you well during your stay here. You are expected to read and adhere to the rules. Your robe is stored here, in the closet." She moved to the right of the room and swung open a latched wardrobed door. As the door swung open it led to a massive compartment. Large enough for one to step inside "Rule number one it is required that every student wears a robe. The most important rule during your first year is to dress each day in your robe before reporting for breakfast or class," she moved and her affliction gently bumped a copious desk knocking pen and paper to the floor. She opened the pair of royal blue curtains which hung from the ceiling to floor draped in golden tassels, to reveal a wall of glass. Light rushed into the room flooding it. "Your robe initiate is red. Red is for freshmen, new initiates to our school. This means this is your first time being afflicted or there is no affliction legacy in your family. Blue for sophomores, purple for juniors and black for seniors. Our school is like no ordinary school." Nosier stood arms folded over her chest alongside Ohren in the center of the room. His mouth agape and eyes wide taking in all the splendor of luxury. The room was one of enormity, a small palace. It was not conceivable that Ohren should have this room to himself. Surely, he'd share with others. They stood in his study. The royal blue and white room captivated him. It was adorned with a colossal white desk strengthened by its elongated legs that flattened into lion claws that brought focus to the room. Accompanied by the desk chair also white with lion claws lined in the finest satin backing. There were two other chairs that surrounded the desk smaller but replicas of his own. To the left of him was a grand bookshelf each adorned with decorative works of art. In the center of the room where he and Nosier stood was a gold carpet with the letters PA. Above it hung a mammoth chandelier of crystals that reflected the light perfectly. Ms. Applebaum basked in the warmth of the sun then continued, "Our focus is not solely on academics but on restoration. Although you begin your journey in a red robe you can just as easily, quickly graduate to black. You need only to work towards minimizing your affliction. Once you have been restored, no matter the level in which it has been achieved you may opt to return to your previous school or continue and graduate from Peculiar Academy." She paused turning to look back at Nosier and Ohren. She smiled briefly, noting that Ohren was astonished by the grandeur of his room. She walked towards him. "As these are now your private quarters I am handing you the key Ohren." She paused for an instant, "Very clever. What a silly thought just popped into my head. Did you know your name spelled backward is Dumbo?" Ohren took the key and looked away shyly, "Yes ma'am," he answered in a small voice as the door gently closed behind Ms. Applebaum.


End file.
